Like Summer
by TakeHeart
Summary: [Oneshot] Iruka, Anko, and a conversation.


A/N: Another experimental fic; this time an **Iruka x Anko**. (sort of) The title probably doesn't fit the story, but the thought of Anko and Iruka together just practically screams 'summer!' at me. Honestly, I really don't know why... o.O

However... Iruka belongs to Kakashi! ... T.T I can't believe I said that...

Anyway... Enjoy this crappy piece...

Disclaimer: Don't own.

Love for **Ladii-chocolate** who beta-edited this fic :3

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: Like Summer :

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The yearly monsoons arrived when the Third Hokage died. Iruka found himself in rain-soaked clothes during that period of time, when he stood before the carved stone. 

He traced the name etched onto the stone with his fingers slowly and tentatively, reliving fond memories of the past the whole time.

The Third was, and still is, his source of support and motivation – he was always there for him; there to impart him wisdom and knowledge. Like bitter medicine that Iruka so detested, the Third's words would seem hard to swallow at first, but would eventually do him good and help him recover from any kind of downfall or setback.

A lone tear, filled with an immense amount of grief and respect, fell as his fingers reached the last stroke; and his hand left the stone to fall back beside him.

"You're such a crybaby, you know. It's no wonder you're still a Chunnin," a voice traveled over the light rain and reached his ears.

Iruka looked up and saw Anko, dressed in her usual attire, and standing in a way that was unique to her alone; her weight resting on one leg with her right hand on her hip, and her head tilted at an angle; her eyes boring into his.

"You are too emotional," she continued, as her feet carried her to where Iruka was.

Anko reached the stone and bowed, then placed her hand on it and patted it in a casual manner, before turning to face Iruka.

"We're Shinobis – tools for war. We shouldn't wear our emotions like some medal. We don't show them."

She scanned Iruka's face once, twice, and saw his eyebrows knitted together, as if he was disagreeing to what she had just said.

"Yes, we're Shinobis. But sometimes, you just have to let out the things you're feeling to feel alive... to feel that you are just like any other ordinary person."

His head was turned upwards, towards the heavens. When he said that, he could already feel the rain beating down on his face.

_Iruka, Iruka._ Anko shook her head when she saw the scene before her. A smirk found its way up on her cheeks and she replied, "Shinobis are not ordinary people."

She thought of how Iruka, in the past, would do foolish things just to gain others' attentions. And now here was the same old Iruka, who was as naïve as ever in everything he did and believed it.

Smiling wryly, Iruka fixed his eyes onto Anko's again, this time speaking in a more serious tone. "Haven't you felt tired, for once? Haven't you ever thought of how your life would be as someone other than a Shinobi?" He broke off his gaze again, and stepped to his left, distancing himself from Anko. Stretching his arms, he drew in a deep breath before continuing,

"Sometimes, you just want to break free of your world. You just want to experience new things," he sighed, eyes rolling back to look at her again.

Anko frowned when she heard his reply. Was Iruka trying to say that he was tired of a Shinobi's life? His words sounded like they could be written in a suicidal letter to her.

An image of a young boy smiling at everyone he met, only to cry in front of his parents' gravestone later, flashed across her mind.

Yet – as much as Anko didn't want to admit – his voice sounded wistful, serene... even mature. It was almost as if he had seen much more than others before him had, and had been contemplating this for some time.

"Don't you feel that?" he pressed on. "Haven't you ever thought of all that?"

_No._

Anko answered his question silently. It was true; her whole life revolved around trainings and missions. She had never once thought of how different her life would be as someone other than a Shinobi. All that occupied her mind were things that any other _ordinary_ Shinobi would think of, save for Iruka.

Even though there were times where her other blood-loving self had kicked in and random thoughts like 'That boy looks tasty' crossed her mind, she had to admit that that was the result of her many years being under Orochimaru's tutelage. "Whatever. But it still doesn't change the fact you're a Shinobi. Face up to reality."

She crossed her arms over her chest in an almost defensive-like manner. Even if Iruka's words did make some sense, it wouldn't do him good as a Shinobi.

"And being a Shinobi doesn't change the fact that you're human – as human as the kind old lady selling noodles or the cold-blooded murderer who killed a thousand innocent people."

"That's way I chose to become an academy teacher. I want those kids to know exactly what it means to be a Shinobi," he now grinned.

In that instant, Anko remembered the whole scene years ago, how Iruka would swear that he would become a good Shinobi and do his parents proud after crying. The determination that was evident in his eyes then still showed even today.

Anko scoffed silently and walked off, but not before throwing Iruka one last sentence.

"Don't talk to me like you're trying to teach me something."

Iruka followed her, quickening his steps to catch up.

"Hey! I'm not finished yet!"

The two bickered as they walked down the streets and as the clouds cleared and the sun peeked out, the latter eventually drying the puddles of water that formed on the ground.

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: End :

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End file.
